Push Through the Pain

If I had to summarize what motherhood means to me, and try and pin it down to one defining word that pretty much captures the whole experience, I would have to say … pain.

Yep, PAIN it is. (What, you were expecting ‘fulfillment’ or ‘love’?) Nope. Children come into this world, bringing joy and excitement and a w-h-o-l-e lot of pain. And they keep on bringing it, in one form or another. With some woman the pain of motherhood begins with a difficult pregnancy; with others, it’s the excruciating labor of childbirth. Everyone has their own little horror stories to share - especially if there is a pregnant lady within earshot. The tales we tell can range from the blood and guts hospital variety to the twisted red tape of adoptions. Women are all about relationship, and instead of trying to one-up each other with our stories, we typically use them to commiserate with each other. We bond, we sympathize, we relate. Perhaps you can relate to my story.

With my first-born, Jaime, it’s a tale about a broken tailbone. And Jaime loves to tell it to anyone who will listen. “When I was born I broke my mom’s tailbone. She was pushing hard and I was pushing harder inside and then there was this snapping sound. Everyone was like, ‘What was that noise?’ And wham! snap! out I came. And I’ve been a pain in the tush ever since!” That’s my sweet Jaime. As for my second, my little Delia, well, that was no picnic either. Though the labor was much shorter (5 hours compared to a full 24) the pain was far more intense. For my first labor I chose to have no meds; with the next pregnancy, I put in my order for an epidural at my first pre-natal check-up. The second time around I knew what was coming - and I was more than a little apprehensive about going through labor again. But the nurses knew I could get through it, and they kept encouraging me. “Push through the pain! Just push through the pain!”

To be honest, that wasn’t what I wanted to hear in the middle of the worst pain I’ve ever had. At the time, I would have preferred a little more sympathy, an understanding look, an assurance that it was going to be all right. But those nurses knew a thing or two, I guess, because I did manage to “push through the pain” and get the job done. And thus my little peanut, my Delia, came into the world. I’m pretty sure she was worth the effort. And the same with Jaime (though my tailbone is still a little sore.)

Pain doesn’t end with the beginning of Motherhood. Oh, no. The fun is just beginning. There’s the recovery from pregnancy. The sleep-deprived nights. All of the endless, thankless, mindless tasks mothers have to do every day, multiple times a day. Not to mention all the repetitive training, nagging, and teaching that comes into play as the kids get older. It’s all rolled up into motherhood. Being a mom is a struggle.  

Of course, I’m not saying that it’s all hardship. There are wonderful moments with your kids (brief, shining moments) when you heave a contented mommy sigh and understand all the love in the universe. We need 
to focus on the good stuff, those happy little carrots that
get us through the slogging dreariness. Because it is worth it. All the pain they give us, in whatever form, in whatever shape it comes, is still worth it. Pain is wrapped up in us and transforms into something better, deeper, more profound. It changes us as women, builds character, and teaches volumes. 
So pain isn’t a bad thing in itself. It’s a springboard for better things.

So when your little ones are hanging on you, trashing the house and talking with their mouths full and pulling the dog’s tail and breaking your crockery … just sit down, take a beverage break and let it roll over you.

Because it’s all good. Bring it on.